


Better than Wine

by Juli



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 20:15:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3782944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Juli/pseuds/Juli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a long mission, Athos and d’Artagnan have time to reconnect.  Well, they will if d’Artagnan can convince Athos that sex is a better idea than wine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better than Wine

The life of a musketeer wasn’t always full of heroics and daring escapades. Sometimes it consisted of long missions accompanied by too many companions. 

“Thank you for your report, Athos,” Treville sat back in his chair and looked at his finest swordsman with satisfaction. “You and the troop accomplished much. I thank you for your service.”

Athos inclined his head in a slight nod. “Thank you, Captain.”

Athos had been in charge of a training mission. Had it been just Athos and his normal companions, it would have been a pleasant interlude. Unfortunately, the mission had involved a troop of 20 Musketeers. They were all his brothers, but their presence meant that Athos and his lover had to be far more circumspect than they would have liked. In other words, the mission had meant that the only touching of d’Artagnan that Athos could indulge in was a friendly slap on the shoulder. 

For three long weeks.

Upon returning to the garrison, Athos had released the rest of the men to find their own comforts while he reported to the captain. d’Artagnan had made as if to stay behind, but Athos had encouraged him otherwise. To keep up respectable appearances, d’Artagnan kept a room at the Bonacieux’s, but spent most of his time at Athos’ lodgings. Athos would meet him there.

“You look tired,” Treville brought Athos attention back to the moment. 

Athos shrugged. “It was an uneventful mission, sir, but a long one.”

Treville rose and motioned Athos to do the same. “Go, seek your own bed.” 

“Thank you, sir, I will.” Athos turned to go, but was called back.

“Athos,” Treville flipped something small and shiny to him. “No rot gut tonight, indulge yourself.”

The object had been a coin and Athos stopped himself short of telling his captain that, as a noble, he hardly needed financial assistance to buy a good bottle of wine. He held his tongue, however. Not only did Athos respect Treville too much to reject the gesture, but he knew it was meant as praise for a job well done.

Athos made a show of stowing the coin into his pouch. “Thank you, sir, I will.” With a touch to his hat, Athos left the office and made his way to the street.

It was early evening and Athos strode quickly towards his neighborhood. He’d intended to go directly to his lodgings where d’Artagnan undoubtedly waited, but heard a spate of shouting coming a tavern as he walked by. He made a quick course change and jogged down the few steps in order to go inside.

“A bottle of your best red,” Athos called to the man behind the bar. He dug out Treville’s coin and supplemented it with a couple of his own. “And hurry.”

The barkeep gave him the evil eye, but Athos casually put his hand on the hilt of his sword and the man’s expression became a lot friendlier. The bottle of wine he presented would never been considered to be good enough to be served at his parents’ table, but it was still of better quality than anything that Athos had enjoyed in months.

“That will do.” 

He paid for the wine and then Athos left the tavern, resuming his journey home. It took longer than he remembered, but no doubt the anticipation of finding d’Artagnan in his quarters made the walk seem longer than it really was. Finally, however, Athos saw the small house where he rented a room. It was somewhat in disrepair, but had a separate entrance and, better yet, a nearly deaf landlord. The privacy was well worth the lack of amenities, as far as Athos was concerned.

“d’Artagnan?” Athos called out for his lover as soon as he entered.

The young man in question turned from the fire he’d been tending in the fireplace. “Treville kept you longer than I expected - . . . .”

When d’Artagnan’s voice cut off suddenly, Athos looked at him in confusion. “What is it?”

“Really?” d’Artagnan glared at what Athos was holding. “We haven’t been alone for three weeks and you thought it necessary to get wine?”

Athos answered before he gave it enough thought. “Wine is always necessary.”

“Is it now?” d’Artagnan’s face was flush with more than one kind of heat. “I wager I could convince you otherwise.”

“I suppose I could be persuaded,” Athos licked his bottom lip anticipation and placed the bottle of wine on the nearby table, deliberately pushing it away from him.

While d’Artagnan had been waiting for Athos, he’d stripped out of his leathers and boots. He was left wearing his pants and an untucked linen shirt that had probably begun its life as white, but had since aged to a soft gray over time and use. The light from the fire made the billowy cloth nearly transparent and Athos admired the sight of d’Artagnan’s lithe form stalking him across the room.

“Persuaded?” d’Artagnan all but purred as he put one hand on Athos’ chest and pushed him back. Athos let himself be unbalanced and ended up sitting with a thump in the chair behind him. “I can do that.”

With the same grace of motion that d’Artagnan possessed when he fought, the young man moved so that he straddled Athos’ legs, settling on his lap with a smug smile. The position brought their groins in contact for the first time in weeks. Even though there were still layers of clothing separating them, Athos groaned at the sensation.

“Now isn’t this better than wine?” d’Artagnan asked, smirking now.

Before Athos could answer, d’Artagnan swooped down for a kiss. It was hot and impetuous, much like the man himself. Athos rested his hands on his lover’s narrow hips, holding him as place as the kiss grew ever wilder. d’Artagnan obtained a grip of his own as he buried his hands in Athos thick hair. As quick a study in loving as he had been with swords, d’Artagnan’s tongue dueled with Athos’ with skill as well as passion.

Kissing d’Artagnan was stimulating, but it didn’t content Athos for long. His hands crept up and under the loose shirt, tracing a pattern up d’Artagnan’s spine. The younger man’s skin was velvety and unblemished by scars. Athos reveled in the smoothness while he could; d’Artagnan was a Musketeer and was almost certain to carry the marks of that service sooner rather than later.

“Don’t.” d’Artagnan stopped kissing Athos to run a thumb along Athos’ lower lip. “I’m here and quite uninjured. Don’t borrow trouble.”

Athos looked into d’Artagnan’s eyes and knew it wasn’t that simple - knew and didn’t care. It was hard to worry about his lover’s future health when the young man was warm and willing in his arms. Athos lowered his grip until his hands were cupping d’Artagnan’s ass. “I believe there was promise of persuasion. . . .”

“I’ve just begun,” d’Artagnan slid off of Athos lap, eluding the older man’s attempt to keep him seated there. 

D’Artagnan dropped to his knees. Much to Athos’ disappointment, however, his destination was not between Athos’ legs, but instead his feet. He wrapped his hands around first one and then another of Athos’ boots, prying each one off. When he was done, d’Artagnan sat back on his heels for a moment and then leaned forward, running hands up Athos’ thighs. When d’Artagnan reached his hips, Athos couldn’t restrain himself any longer. He wrapped both hands around the back of d’Artagnan’s head, pulling him close to capture his mouth again.

As heady as the kisses were, as before, they did not suffice for long. With a moan, Athos rose, bringing d’Artagnan up with him. Still kissing, he backed the younger man towards the bed. When his knees hit the mattress, d’Artagnan fell back with a laugh. Athos took a moment to savor the sight. He would never tire of seeing d’Artagnan in his bed.

But why be content with merely looking when he could touch?

Athos joined his lover, covering the younger man with his body and pressing him down into the bed’s softness. More kisses were exchanged, but as enjoyable as they were, Athos pulled his mouth of his lover’s in order to press his lips down the side of d’Artagnan’s neck. He’d never been more grateful for the open collar of his lover’s shirt. While the thumb of one hand stroked d’Artagnan’s jaw, the fingers of the other fumbled with the laces of the garment. As more skin was revealed, Athos kissed that too, worshipping the other man with his lips. As he reached an erect nipple, he circled it with his tongue, enjoying the way d’Artagnan’s hips raised off the bed with pleasure

As engrossed as he was in his lover’s body, Athos was slow to realize that d’Artagnan wasn’t moving only in reaction to pleasure. d’Artagnan’s hips began to arch in reaction to Athos’ tongue, but ended in a sharp twist that sent the older man tumbling onto his back. Immediately after, d’Artagnan sat astride Athos’ body, looking down at him in an expression that was equal parts lust and satisfaction. Obviously, Porthos was teaching the boy some less than gentlemanly moves and d’Artagnan was a quick study.

“Persuasive enough for you?” d’Artagnan panted.

“A promising start,” Athos conceded, but then made a twisting move of his own. d’Artagnan was again pinned underneath him, although from the bulge in his groin, not at all adverse to the situation. “But I do love my wine.”

“That’s the way it’s going to be?” d’Artagnan grinned up at him. He wiggled his hips in the most enticing way.

Athos felt one of his rare smiles tug at his lips. “Apparently so.”

Challenge given and accepted, their loving became a competition of sorts, each man seeking to outdo the other. The bed creaked as they grappled on it, kisses intermingled with caresses and the squeezing of flesh as each sought to dominate the encounter. The complexity of stripping leather off of aroused bodies slowed them down, but slower did not mean less intense. They’d both felt the torture of having the other within sight for nearly a month, but not being free to touch. There would be bruises come morning, but not the type that would be regretted.

Eventually, however, an end needed to be reached and there was ever only one way it would conclude.

Athos withdrew his fingers from where they’d been buried in his lover’s body, nearly undone when he looked up to see that he was being watched with eyes half-lidded with desire. d’Artagnan stroked his own length, knees spread to give his lover room to work. With shaking hands, Athos reached for the vial, by this time nearly depleted, using the remaining contents to liberally coat his cock with the slippery substance. 

Wordlessly, d’Artagnan shifted as though to move onto his belly, but Athos reached out and placed a slick hand on his inner thigh in order to stop him. “A truly fine wine should be decanted,” he explained hoarsely. “It allows the flavors to be opened up before it is consumed.”

d’Artagnan’s eyes looked unnaturally dark in the firelight. “Am I to be consumed, then?”

“A poor choice of words on my part, please forgive me. “ Athos knelt between his lover’s open legs. He gripped the younger man behind the knees in order to encourage them to spread even wider. “I should have said savored rather than consumed.”

Before d’Artagnan could reply, Athos settled his lover’s knees in the crooks of arms and braced himself over the young man. He deftly shifted his hips until his erection was pressing against the puckered opening, which was still tight despite Athos’ earlier preparations. Catching d’Artagnan’s heated gaze with his own, Athos pushed forward until the swollen head breached the opening to his lover’s body.

d’Artagnan cried out softly and his hips canted up. 

“Yesss. . . .” Athos hissed and thrust slowly, but relentlessly until he bottomed out against the firm orb’s of d’Artagnan’s ass. The lovers were coupled completely.

Heaven.

It was awkward, but Athos still managed to lean forward and take the younger man’s mouth in a brutal kiss. Even nearly bent in two, d’Artagnan returned it and Athos felt the warm passage he was sheathed in twitch in response. Athos groaned as he quickly found the lack of movement that the kiss required unbearable.

Releasing d’Artagnan’s mouth, Athos turned his attention to where their bodies joined. He started with a rolling motion of his hips, a movement that served to open his younger lover up further. 

d’Artagnan gripped Athos’ arms where they braced against the bed. “Faster, damn you.”

“Patience is a virtue,” Athos teased, but his next stroke was straight in, hard and fast. His hips snapped back and forth as the next thrust was even stronger. To his delight, there were no more demands from his lover. Articulate ones, in any case. d’Artagnan gasped, but seemed to have been quickly taken beyond speech.

The pace remained steady, d’Artagnan’s legs bouncing over Athos’ shoulders as the older man rode him hard. Athos felt dampness on his stomach and wasn’t sure if it was his own sweat or his lover’s cock weeping as it was pressed between their straining bodies.

d’Artagnan took the pounding with great enthusiasm, rutting his hips as much as the awkward position he was in would allow and making moaning noises that Athos found incredibly satisfying. Athos felt like he could have lasted all night, but also never lost sight that he wasn’t the only participant in their love-making.

“Please.” d’Artagnan found his voice again and it was ragged with need.

Athos shook his sweaty curls out of his eyes and looked at his lover’s face. d’Artagnan’s expression showed that his pleasure had grown until it was nearly pain. His grip on Athos’ arms was nearly desperate.

With a subdued roar, Athos managed to lift up a couple of inches and bent d’Artagnan over just a little bit more. Athos’ thrusts became staccato as his hips beat relentlessly down on the younger man’s straining form, making sure that their bellies rubbed together the maximum amount to stimulate the cock trapped between them.

“Don’t hold back, love,” Athos encouraged d’Artagnan. He bent forward, but instead of capturing the other man’s mouth in a kiss, he latched onto d’Artagnan’s neck. He bit down hard enough to leave a mark, although stopped just short of breaking the skin.

“Athos!”

d’Artagnan’s hips thrust up even as his ass clamped down on the cock invading it. His entire body became rigid and it was almost an afterthought to feel the warmth as the young man’s seed coated their bellies.

While d’Artagnan rode out the affects of an intense orgasm, Athos slowed his thrusts. He was on the edge of his own release and part of him was tempted to just rut hard into the body under him until he’d reached his own completion. Instead, however, he kept up a slow, lazy motion, for all the world as if they had not been coupling wildly a few moments before.

“d’Artagnan, look at me,” Athos ordered when it seemed that his lover was regaining his senses.

Dark eyes opened slowly and then got wider as d’Artagnan realized that his lover was still hard and moving inside of him. “Athos.”

“I brought this pleasure to you” Athos stated, rolling his hips again. “Me and no one else.”

d’Artagnan bit his lip, but readily agreed. “Only you.”

“I saw them,”Athos’ motions began speeding up again as memories from the last weeks surfaced. “Half the regiment would have had you on your knees in front of them.”

“No, Athos.” The other man was shaking his head even before Athos finished speaking. “Only you. It has always been – only will ever be – you.”

The young man’s unequivocal statement pushed Athos over the edge. d’Artagnan’s presence in his life had largely helped Athos finally move on from his wife’s betrayal, but such a genuine declaration of loyalty still aroused him on a deep level. Athos groaned loudly and finally let his release erupt, moving his grip on d’Artagnan’s legs to spread the young man as wide as he would go. He thrust in thrice more as his seed coated the inside of d’Artagnan’s passage. When he finished, Athos collapsed on top of the younger man.

For an undetermined length of time, the only sound in the room was harsh panting. Athos mouthed at the bite mark on d’Artagnan’s neck as he waited to get his breathing under control. At first d’Artagnan lay still beneath him, but as the younger man regained his senses, he brought his hands up to stroke up and down Athos’ back. Neither man spoke, however, until Athos’ spent member slid from d’Artagnan’s body. As though that were some sort of signal, Athos rolled off of d’Artagnan, bringing the young man with him and rearranging him so that d’Artagnan was pillowed on top of his chest.

“Mmm,” d’Artagnan rubbed his face against Athos’ skin, kissing his chest almost chastely. “My compliments to the sommelier.”

Athos actually found himself chuckling softly as lover reminded them of how the encountered had begun. “Is that your way of saying that you were right, that this was better than wine?”

d’Artagnan lifted his head and gave him a mock wounded look. “Are you saying it wasn’t?”

“You insolent pup, you know it was. Far better – no comparison, in fact.” Athos kissed him soundly. “Now get some rest, you’re going to need it.”

To his credit, d’Artagnan tried to leer, but just looked tired. “Oh?”

“My love of wine is legendary,” Athos said primly. “I may need to be persuaded again in the morning.”

d’Artagnan yawned and snuggled deeper into Athos’ embrace. “I look forward to it.”

“Sleep,” Athos began stroking d’Artagnan’s hair, knowing it was as good as a lullaby for the younger man. As usual, it worked and soon d’Artagnan had drifted off to sleep.

Athos was slow to follow. He’d missed the simple closeness of holding d’Artagnan justas much as he had the coupling. It had been an intensely passionate love-making session, plus they’d just come off a long mission. As much as Athos would have preferred staying awake to savor the sensation of d’Artagnan’s return to his arms, sleep beckoned.

As he drifted off, however, Athos’ gaze returned to the forgotten wine bottle. At the moment, it held absolutely no appeal. Athos, after all, had found a much better vintage.

~the end~


End file.
